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Contra Vigilantium liber unus

10.

Vigilantii argumenta contra miracula.—Non possum universa percurrere, quae sanctorum presbyterorum litterae comprehendunt, de libellis illius aliqua proferam. Argumentatur contra signa atque virtutes, quae in basilicis martyrum fiunt, et dicit eas incredulis prodesse, non credentibus, quasi nunc hoc quaeratur, quibus fiant, et non, qua virtute fiant. Esto signa sint infidelium, qui quoniam sermoni, et doctrinae credere noluerunt, signis adducantur ad fidem, et Dominus incredulis signa faciebat, et tamen non idcirco Domini suggillanda sunt signa, quia illi infideles erant, sed majori admirationi erant [Al. erant], quia tantae fuere potentiae, ut etiam mentes durissimas edomarent, et ad fidem cogerent. Itaque nolo mihi dicas, signa infidelium sunt; sed responde quomodo in vilissimo pulvere, et favilla, nescio qua, tanta signorum virtutumque praesentia. Sentio, sentio, infelicissime mortalium, quid doleas, quid timeas. Spiritus iste immundus qui haec te cogit scribere, saepe hoc vilissimo tortus est pulvere, immo hodieque torquetur, et qui in te plagas dissimulat, in caeteris confitetur. Nisi forte in morem gentilium impiorumque, Porphyrii et Eunomii, has praestigias daemonum esse confingas, et non vere clamare daemones; sed sua simulare tormenta. Do consilium, ingredere basilicas martyrum, et aliquando purgaberis: invenies ibi multos socios tuos, et nequaquam cereis martyrum, qui tibi displicent, sed flammis invisibilibus combureris, et tunc fateberis, quod nunc negas, et tuum nomen, qui in Vigilantio loqueris, libere proclamabis, te esse aut Mercurium propter nummorum cupiditatem, aut Nocturnum [Al. Nocturninum], juxta Plauti Amphitryonem, quo dormiente, in Alemenae adulterio, duas noctes Jupiter copulavit, ut magnae fortitudinis Hercules nasceretur; aut certe Liberum patrem pro ebrietate et cantharo ex humeris dependente, et semper rubente facie, et spumantibus labiis, effrenatisque conviciis.

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Against Vigilantius

10.

I cannot traverse all the topics embraced in the letters of the reverend presbyters; I will adduce a few points from the tracts of Vigilantius. He argues against the signs and miracles which are wrought in the basilicas of the martyrs, and says that they are of service to the unbelieving, not to believers, as though the question now were for whose advantage they occur, not by what power. Granted that signs belong to the faithless, who, because they would not obey the word and doctrine, are brought to believe by means of signs. Even our Lord wrought signs for the unbelieving, and yet our Lord’s signs are not on that account to be impugned, because those people were faithless, but must be worthy of greater admiration because they were so powerful that they subdued even the hardest hearts, and compelled men to believe. And so I will not have you tell me that signs are for the unbelieving; but answer my question—how is it that poor worthless dust and ashes are associated with this wondrous power of signs and miracles? I see, I see, most unfortunate of mortals, why you are so sad and what causes your fear. That unclean spirit who forces you to write these things has often been tortured by this worthless dust, aye, and is being tortured at this moment, and though in your case he conceals his wounds, in others he makes confession. You will hardly follow the heathen and impious Porphyry and Eunomius, and pretend that these are the tricks of the demons, and that they do not really cry out, but feign their torments. Let me give you my advice: go to the basilicas of the martyrs, and some day you will be cleansed; you will find there many in like case with yourself, and will be set on fire, not by the martyrs’ tapers which offend you, but by invisible flames; and you will then confess what you now deny, and will freely proclaim your name—that you who speak in the person of Vigilantius are really either Mercury, for greedy of gain was he; or Nocturnus, who, according to Plautus’s “Amphitryon,” slept while Jupiter, two nights together, had his adulterous connection with Alcmena, and thus begat the mighty Hercules; or at all events Father Bacchus, of drunken fame, with the tankard hanging from his shoulder, with his ever ruby face, foaming lips, and unbridled brawling.